


Soldiers of Nemesis

by thearomalady



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Spoilers, Time Travel, kids from the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-02 13:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20276947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearomalady/pseuds/thearomalady
Summary: They turned back the hands of time when the delayed war seemed hopeless for them, hoping to gain the upper hand by bringing their ideals to light sooner. They experimented and the schemed, with the goal to tear the fragile order of Fódlan asunder.And in one timeline, they succeeded.But the hands of time are not so easily swayed, and a new timeline was born. One where their plans were discovered and where they could be stopped.Three timelines. One of a millennial peace that fell to ruin, one of a terrible war that ended it all, and one fragile unknown that brings hope.Spoilers for the Golden Deer route and Claude's ending.





	1. The Plan in Motion

**Author's Note:**

> I got to thinking about how Claude's romantic ending with Byleth rather sounds like a bad ending, as it neither mentions their marriage nor the end of the war that broke out within the epilogue.
> 
> And that led to this fanfic.

In the abandoned town outside the monastery, a girl awoke from a deep slumber. She sat up, awake as if she had been for hours. The bedroom was small and square, fitting only the bed she slept in, a chest of drawers to her left, and a small desk, on which sat a dusty candle. Barely sparing the room more than the glance, she left. The person who had stayed to take care of her as she slept looked up from a letter he’d been reading. His cyan hair shimmered in the candlelight. His moment of surprise faded quickly into a grin.

“I see you’re finally up and about.”

“Finally,” the girl stretched as she spoke, looking around the room. “We should leave a soon as- as possible.”

Her stomach growled loudly, and her companion laugh even louder. “You should get some food in you at least, and get some proper rest. I’ll get you some food, just sit down.”

“Thank you,” the girl sat down in the chair beside the window. It was nighttime and there wasn’t even a sliver of a moon to be seen. It was a new month. Nighttime by a moonless night meant travelling wouldn’t be possible until morning. The girl sighed. Nothing to be done. She turned her attention to her reflection in the dark glass. Her dark green hair was tousled from sleep. She pulled her hair out of its updo to smooth it out, running her fingers through her tresses.

“Here you go, Iseult!” her companion set a plate of food in front of Iseult. “You’ve gotta be hungry.”

“My thanks, Jeremiah.”

Iseult only realised how ravenous she was when she began eating. She made it through two entire plates before she immediately went back to sleep.

The next morning, Iseult and Jeremiah rose at dawn. Iseult slipped her gauntlets on. She still wasn’t completely used to hand-to-hand combat. She slipped a decorated lance into the sheath on her back. Beside her, Jeremiah picked up a sword. They stepped out into the frosty morning.

“It’s so cold,” Iseult said, rubbing her arms. “What Moon is it?”

“Guardian. You were out a little longer than we expected. If you’re cold, I’ll lend you my cloak. Also, I got a letter from Larkin a few weeks ago that they’re all at the monastery,” said Jeremiah. “Except for us, Azriel, Willa, and Prescott, because Dorothea and my dad are still with the Empire.”

“And what about the original plan?”

“Everyone followed your directions,” Jeremiah said. “And it all worked out. You really knew who to choose, Iseult.”

“It wasn’t just me,” Iseult said. “We all figured out who would be best to go where without risk.”

“Still, it worked so well. I just hope they don’t figure out we planned it. It’s a little suspicious.”

“As long as everyone acted like they didn’t know each other until now, it should be fine,” said Iseult, flexing her fingers in the silver gauntlets she wore. “The same goes for us. We can know each other as travellers at first-"

“Larkin and I already talked about that,” Jeremiah interrupted. “You, Larkin, and I are cousins. It’s a much easier way in than just showing up. Larkin has a lot of trust built with Lorenz, I guess.”

“Is that so? I suppose that is a more concrete way to join the Alliance… I just hope it isn’t perceived as suspicious. Has Larkin told them we’re coming?”

“That was the plan,” Jeremiah said. “If he actually did it, I don’t know. But since it’s Larkin, I would say yeah.”

“I hope it works.”

The two barely spoke again until they reached the monastery gates. On the other side of the gate was the monastery marketplace, filled with merchants, knights, and church staff. Talking to the battalion vendor was Larkin, a tall young man with sky blue hair, and a man with dark purple hair who looked faintly annoyed. The man noticed them first and his eyes narrowed. Larkin looked up at him as he fell silent, then followed his gaze to the gate. He spoke to the man, who relaxed. The two approached the gate.

“Larkin, these are your cousins?”

“Yes, my liege,” Larkin said, bowing his head. “Iseult, Jeremiah, I would like for you to meet my liege, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, son of Count Gloucester.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Iseult said with a bow. “Jeremiah and I have come to provide our services to the war. We wish to fight against the Empire.”

“Hm...” Lorenz folded his arms. “That is not up to me, I’m afraid. You’ll have to see the professor.”

“Shall I go get her and Claude?” Larkin asked.

“Hm, no need. We will take them to see her,” Lorenz directed the nearby guard to open the gate with his hand.

Lorenz led the way to the reception hall, where they found Byleth and Claude talking quietly, heads close together so that the knights and church members couldn’t hear them. They stopped talking when Lorenz came close to them.

“A conversation too secret for the rest of us?” Lorenz asked, irate. “Regardless, Professor. We have some new guests.”

“They’re my cousins,” Larkin said helpfully. “I would like you to meet Jeremiah and Iseult.”

“We would like to join the fight against the Empire, if that’s alright,” Jeremiah said. “Oh, but we don’t have Crests... that won’t be a problem, right?”

“Nah,” said Claude. “Not everyone here has Crests. Don’t worry about that. We could use more swords against the Empire. What do you think, my friend?”

He turned to look at Byleth. Byleth studied them, her emotionless green eyes piercing. It felt like she could see through them, like she knew exactly who they were. She nodded.

“I agree, Claude. Larkin, could you find them rooms?”

“Very well,” Larkin said with an elegant bow.

Claude, Byleth, and Lorenz began talking once they were out of earshot, based on the way their heads were bent. Larkin and his “cousins” waited until they were climbing the stairs to the second floor.

“It’s so good to see you up and about, Iseult,” Larkin said. “We were all worried.”

Larkin opened the door to the second floor of of dormitories where the nobles had once often slept. Once inside one of the rooms, Larkin took the key out of a drawer and handed it to Jeremiah. Iseult closed the door.

“Tell me what’s happened since I slept.”

“We followed your instructions,” Larkin said, sitting down at the desk. “I went to the Gloucester territory. I was able to become Lorenz’s vassal. He quite likes me, actually. More than you expected. He trusts me implicitly and it’s only been five years.”

“You made sure to stagger the times out right?” Iseult asked.

“Yeah. Prescott and Farrah joined up with Caspar and Raphael two years ago. Gideon met up with Ignatz less than a year ago, and Willa has been with Annette just as long. It all went pretty smoothly. Three years ago Varun and Ilene went into the service of Felix and Sylvain. Apparently he took to Ilene as well as you thought,” Larkin reeled off.

“Well she is the eldest and most beautiful of all of us,” said Iseult. “And we know what he’s like.”

“Yes,” Larkin nodded, continuing to count off on his fingers. “Four years ago Vance began working for Hilda and Azriel began working with Dorothea. Between my service beginning with my liege and Vance’s with Hilda, Poppy began working for- for Ferdinand.”

“Ferdinand?” Iseult said sharply. “That was not part of the plan.”

“Byleth disappeared five years ago,” Larkin said. “She only showed up again at the Millennium Festival. So of course Poppy couldn’t go to her. She built up trust with Ferdinand to become his right hand.”

“She disappeared?” Iseult repeated.

“Poppy, Gideon, and I think it’s our fault,” Larkin said. “We think our coming here forced Byleth to skip forward. The timing is too precise from when she went missing and when we got here. Plus she doesn’t remember any of it. Of course she could have been asleep.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Jeremiah said with a grin.

“Shush!” Iseult hissed. “Not so loud, Jeremiah!”

“On that note, nobody has figured it out,” Larkin said. “But it’s been hard for some of us to keep it to ourselves. I have found it hard. I’m so glad I picked up the lance for this... it’s been a good excuse to spend time with...”

Larkin took a deep breath and continued on in the soft voice Jeremiah and Iseult were used to.

“It’s been a good excuse to spend time with my father. Sparring with him. Training. Byleth even had Mother join us once because Byleth wanted Mother to work on her lance skills... then Mother, Father, and I tended to the horses. I’ve never been so happy. I don’t want to go back home, Iseult.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Iseult said firmly. “When this is over, if we change the future, then we will cease to exist as we are now. We knew that when we came back. We knew what we were doing.”

“I know,” Larkin said. “But I’m going to enjoy the time I have.”

“We all will,” Jeremiah said. “Have we heard anything about my dad?”

“Not recently,” Larkin said. “It’s not a good idea to keep in close contact.”

“We have to,” Iseult said, her expression hard. “We have no choice.”

There was a rapid knocking on the door and someone poked her head in, her dark orange hair in a ponytail over one shoulder. Leonie. “There you are, Larkin. Dinner’s ready.”

Leonie’s eyes moved to Jeremiah and Iseult. “Oh! You must be Larkin’s cousins. I’m Leonie. Nice to meet you. Maybe we can talk over dinner?”

“Sure,” Jeremiah said, and they followed Leonie downstairs. “Hey, Leonie!”

“Yes?” she looked over her shoulder.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Uh… meat pie, I think,” Leonie said thoughtfully. “I didn’t think to ask, but that’s what it looked like.”

Jeremiah punched the air, cheering. He jumped down the last few stairs in his excitement. “I love meat pies!"

“They’re not bad,” Leonie agreed.

“Not bad? They’re the best! My mom, when she was alive, made the best meat pies,” Jeremiah said. “She hunted her own meat, too, so it was always completely fresh. It took her a long time to learn how to make the crust flaky, she used to get our neighbour to make it in exchange for meat. I wish you could have tried one of her pies.”

“I wish I could, too,” Leonie said. “She sounds incredible. She hunted and cooked? Then what did your dad do?”

“My dad couldn’t cook at all,” he told her. “And he’s not a great hunter. So my mom had to do it. My dad was a knight, though. So that’s what he was always doing.”

“I see.”

Larkin and Iseult exchanged looks, neither speaking up, but acknowledging Jeremiah was talking too much.

“Before I came along, Mom was a mercenary. She picked it up again when I was eight,” Jeremiah continued. “But I lost them both five years ago in the war.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Leonie said sympathetically.

“Jeremiah, no need to keep bringing the mood down,” Iseult said.

“Oops,” he looked over his shoulder at her. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” Leonie said. “What about you, Iseult?”

Iseult clenched her jaw, her lips drawn. She thought about her mother crying over a letter and parcel. Hiding it all when she was noticed. Her mother up late at night, pouring over maps, looking drawn. Her mother tending to her father’s innumerable wounds while Iseult herself sat nearby with a bowl of water boiled with healing herbs.

“I… I would rather not speak of it,” Iseult said, her voice trembling. Larkin put a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Leonie said. “It looks like a painful topic.”

“My father died when I was three,” Larkin said as they entered the dining hall, swiftly changing the subject. “My mother raised me, but I wish I could have gotten to know my dad. What about you, Leonie?”

“Well, my parents are still around,” Leonie said, “but my whole village really raised me. It’s thanks to them that I’m here.”

They sat down at a table next to a surly-looking man. Leonie plunked her tray down next to him.

“Hey, Felix.”

“Hello, Leonie,” Felix said flatly.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Leonie said. “You still haven’t chosen a time to test Captain Jeralt’s training!”

“Ah… right,” Felix pushed his food around with his fork to spear some meat, crust, and vegetables onto it. “I’ve been busy, we all have. However, I should have time tomorrow afternoon.”

“Great!” Leonie said, smiling. “I look forward to it. Have you met Iseult and Jeramiah?”

“No.”

“Well, let me introduce you, then.”

“No need,” Felix said, standing up. “I’ve finished my dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow, Leonie.”

“Wait!” she ran after him. “You didn’t tell me where!”

Leonie took off after Felix, who was deftly ignoring and avoiding her.


	2. Longshot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written a fanfic in like 3 years.

Byleth watched the two newcomers carefully over the next week. She wasn’t particularly suspicious of them, but caution didn’t hurt. Something felt off about them, especially about the inquisitive Iseult. Then again, something felt off to Byleth about many of the recruits she hadn’t taught. It wasn’t a bad kind of off, but it wasn’t what she would call a good thing, either. Eventually, when sitting in the Cardinals’ Room, she voiced her thoughts to Claude, the only person in the room with her.

“You too? I’ve been feeling like that, too,” he said. “I’m not sure if I want to single out Iseult, but she does seem interested in us. Maybe it’s just because we’re leading this army.”

“Maybe,” said Byleth. “Her interest in us reminds me a great deal of what Ferdinand told us of Larkin.”

“What did Larkin do?”

“He was really very curious about Ferdinand,” Byleth said. “He showed no such interest in anyone else.”

“Really? Hm,” Claude folded his arms. “That’s a little odd, I admit. Why Ferdinand? It isn’t as if he and Lorenz are close.”

“I can’t say. He doesn’t have power anymore. It just seems to be a personal interest in Ferdinand,” Byleth said.

“I agree,” Claude said, walking around the room to sit beside Byleth. “Though Lorenz will vouch for Larkin. He’s pretty fond of his vassal.”

“That he is,” Byleth said. “By the way, have you noticed? He and Hilda have been quite close as of late.”

“Oh, I noticed,” said Claude, gazing at Byleth’s pretty profile. “I asked Hilda about it. Apparently they’re considering getting engaged, but I wonder how true that is. I suppose she is someone Lorenz might consider marrying, being a noblewoman from a well-to-do family. Still, I’m surprised Hilda would choose Lorenz over someone else. But whatever makes them happy, I suppose.”

“We are about that age though,” said Byleth.

“Nothing brings people together quite like war,” said Claude playfully, leaning his back and elbows against the tabletop, grinning in his easy-going way. “Really though, war does show you just what matters most.”

“Yes, it does,” Byleth looked at Claude. “I now know I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

Her tone didn’t imply anything, but Claude still blushed. “Well we’re in the same boat then, my friend. I’ve seen what it’s like to not have you in my life anymore and I have to say, I didn’t like it. My schemes just aren’t complete without you anymore.”

Byleth laughed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Just your schemes?”

Claude grinned, turning in his seat to look at Byleth, leaning towards her. “Oh, I don’t know.”

Byleth mimicked his pose, resting her quill against her cheek, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing with an axe?”

“Oh, I am, but you know me. I’ll practice,” he said, leaning closer to her. “Maybe not with an axe right now, but I’ll... practice.”

Byleth leaned in as well, her quill brushing his chin. Her cheeks were very pink. “So what’s stopping you?”

Claude’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her blushing. “Well, I need someone to practice with… I’d really like to practice with you.”

He brushed his lips against hers, taking her quill out of her limp fingers. Byleth laced her fingers with Claude’s. She could feel his breath on her lips. He was hesitating, and so was she. Her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation.

“Claude…”

There was a sharp knock on the door and the two pulled apart, equally red in the face. Lysethia frowned, crossing her arms.

“What are you two doing?”

“Discussing the new team editions,” said Byleth. “What do you think of them, Lysethia?”

“Not much,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Why?”

“No reason,” Byleth said, lacing her fingers together. “What did you need, Lysethia?”

“Oh, right,” she straightened up. “The carts of supplies have come in. Ignatz, Manuela, and I checked them to be sure enemies weren’t hiding inside.”

She turned to leave, then stopped in the doorway, giving them one of her stern looks. “And if you two are planning to start a relationship, I would hold off until this war is over. You two are the leaders of the resistance. Edelgard already knows you two are important to each other, and Shamir says we can never be sure we’ve eradicated every spy. I wouldn’t want to give Edelgard any more reason to target one of you. So I would avoid getting too romantic if I were you.”

With that, she left Claude and Byleth in a very embarrassed silence.

| - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - | - |

Varun set up the last of the training dummies, standing in the middle of what could reasonably be called a small forest of straw figures. He twirled his spear in his hands, knocking aside one of the dummies. This prompted him to start taking them down as if they were attacking him. He pushed himself into the air on his spear, kicking one of the dummies and bringing his spear down. One by one, he brought down the dummies, piercing his spear again and again into their straw bodies. He wished he could fight properly, but nobody was available.

“Wow, Varun! That was so cool!”

Varun spun around, looking like he’d just been caught doing something wrong. “Mah-!”

Hilda walked up, stepping around the straw bodies. “Mah?”

“You startled me,” he said, going red. “Did you need something, Hilda?”

“No, no,” she said. “I was just watching you from the door. That was really impressive.”

Varun shrugged. “I don’t think so. It’s not super practical for battle unless I can stop time.”

“Oh, I guess. But it’s still cool to watch,” Hilda said. “You’re so fast, though.”

“Did you... maybe... want to train with me?” Varun asked hopefully.

“Me? Oh no, I don’t like training,” Hilda said. “I don’t wanna get all sweaty. I’m more tactics than fighting. I can barely lift an axe! Look how delicate I am. Why do you think I ride a wyvern? Silly.”

“That’s not true,” Varun said. “The other day we were fighting Imperial soldiers and you took out one of their Black Beasts almost totally on your own. You’re amazing!”

“You’re too sweet. I’m really not that good at combat. I got lucky, and I had Lorenz there. He did most of the work.”

“I’d still really like to train with you,” said Varun. “You have the weapon advantage.”

“If you want to train with someone who uses an axe, you can ask Claude or Cyril. Oh, or the professor! Or Leonie knows a thing or two, I think.”

“... right,” Varun twirled his spear so the sharp end was down. “Nevermind. I should clean this up. Sorry to bother you, Hilda.”

He began cleaning up the dummies, his expression set. Hilda sighed. “Why do you want to train with me?”

“Like I said-you’re amazing. Plus you’ve been learning to use an axe since you were a kid, right? It’s tradition for your family,” Varun said, lining the dummies back up. “You’re the best axe user in the monastery right now. Plus, my uncle thinks the best way to get to know someone is in combat.”

“He sounds like my brother.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Varun wiped sweat off his brow. “He sounds amazing.”

“He is,” Hilda agreed. “But he can be a little overbearing... I actually need to write to him, now you bring it up... do you have any siblings, Varun?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I have six.”

“Six!” Hilda gasped. “That’s so many! I don’t think I could imagine having so many siblings. Just one is a lot… Are you the youngest or the oldest?”

“What makes you think I’m not a middle child?”

“Well… the only reason I can think for why someone would have so many kids… is if they’re a noble, or they’re looking for a son or a daughter,” Hilda said. “I mean, that’s what I might do. Keep having kids until I have a cute little daughter…. But I might end up doing that until I pass my Crest down if things stay as they are.”  
Varun looked at her, frowning. “Does that bother you?”

“Not really? I mean I guess?” Hilda swayed from side to side as she thought. “I don’t know.”

Varun tilted his head to the side. “Hilda?”

Hilda crossed her arms, looking troubled. “I never thought about it before, I’ll be honest. I don’t think I even want to be a mom. There’s so many expectations with it… I don’t think I could handle all of that.”

She looked at Varun. “What’s your mom like?”

Varun jumped. “Why?”

“How does she handle being the mother of seven kids? How does your dad do it? I know some nobles have lots of kids, but I don’t think that’s me.”

Varun tapped his cheek with his finger, an unconcious imitation of his mother. “My mother… she doesn’t like to get dirty or sweaty. She doesn’t like to work hard or fight, but if my siblings or I are in danger... Once, I was out playing with my younger brother and sister and we were attacked by a beast. I tried to hold it off while my brother and sister ran for help. I got hurt and couldn’t fight and then my mom showed up. She took the beast down all on her own, scolded me for taking my brother and sister so far out from the house, and I’ve never been more terrified nor in awe of my mother.”

He laughed at Hilda’s expression. “What?”

“You made that up!”

“I really didn’t,” he said. “Would you ever risk your life for someone else?”

Hilda shook her head. “I wouldn’t. Once you die… that’s it. I wouldn’t want to risk leaving my kids without a mother.”

“But the alternative would be losing one of your children,” Varun said. “My mom didn’t even get hurt.”

Hilda sighed, looking away. “I don’t know if I could do that.”

“I think you could,” Varun said. “But it’s up to you, Hilda.”

He took his spear, sticking it into the sheath on his back, and began to leave the training hall. He was halfway down the hall outside when Hilda caught up to him. “Varun, do you wanna help me feed and bathe my wyvern?”

“I’d love to help you, if I’m just helping,” he said.

Hilda giggled. “Right.”

The two went outside to the stables where the wyverns were. Hilda’s wyvern, Zeiss, roared at the sight of her.  
“Zeiss!” Hilda hugged her wyvern. “Hi!! Who’s my cute widdle wyvern?”

Zeiss, like an enormous winged dog, wagged his tail, hopping around. He knocked Varun over into the water trough, and knocked Hilda back a few steps when he nudged Hilda with his face. He gave a roarlike chirp.

“Yes it’s you!” Hilda cooed. “You are so cute!”

She scratched his jaw and behind his antlers. Zeiss knocked Varun into the trough again when he stood back up. Hilda paid him no notice as she scratched her wyvern. Varun rolled out of the trough and crawled on the ground out of the way of Zeiss’ tail before standing up. Varun waited until he was standing beside her to wring out his long purple hair. At the sound of his squelching footsteps and the water hitting the ground, Hilda looked at him. Her rose-coloured eyes widened.

“Varun! Why are you all wet?”

“Ask Zeiss.”

Zeiss sniffed Varun, cocked his head in confusion, and then licked the water off his face. When he went for Varun’s hair, Varun pushed him away and stepped back. “Not my hair, please!”

Hilda laughed. “He’s just playing with you.””

“I don’t mind playing,” Varun said. “But I don’t want him eating my hair.”

“You do have beautiful hair,” Hilda said, taking Varun’s ponytail in her hand. “It’s so shiny and neat. Zeiss doesn’t try to eat my hair…”

“Maybe he’s just hungry. We did come here to feed him.”

Varun threw a fish at Zeiss from a bucket they’d brought. Zeiss caught it in his jaws, and the one Hilda threw at him. They took turns throwing fish at Zeiss, who was clearly having the time of his life.

“Having fun?”

Lorenz stood on the other side of the pasture fence, a look of disapproval on his face. Varun stopped laughing, and Zeiss stuck his scaly snout into the bucket in his hands. Lorenz looked very displeased, and not in the entertaining way.

“Lorenz!” Hilda turned to him, her face alight with laughter. “What are you doing here in the stables?”

“I heard a dragon making quite a lot of noise, and was curious as to what was causing such a fuss,” he said, crossing his arms. “Now I see it is you and Varun horsing about. Just what are you doing, Hilda? You’re a woman of noble standing.”

“Oh, not that again,” she said. “I’m feeding my wyvern, and Varun is helping. You know, you could help me, too.”

She said her last line with the familiar tone of fully intending to manipulate him into doing it for her. Lorenz, however, shook his head. He was clearly exasperated at the mere suggestion.

“I will have to decline,” Lorenz said. “I cannot honestly say feeding a dragon some, forgive me, pungent fish is a task I would enjoy. I simply came to see what all the commotion was over. Now that I know, I will take my leave.”

“Oh, we are almost done feeding him,” Varun said. “Could you do us a favour, Lorenz?”

“That depends purely on what that favour is.”

Ten minutes later, Lorenz found himself carrying two buckets full of soapy water back towards Hilda and Varun, wondering how he’d been conned into such a menial task. Varun was brushing the dirt off Zeiss’s scales while Hilda was obviously just playing with her wyvern. Lorenz set the buckets down beside Hilda. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Hey, thank you!” she handed him a sponge with no prompting, wiping another one down Zeiss’ neck. Lorenz stared at the sponge in his hand, then looked at Hilda.

“What am I to do with this?”

“What do you think?” Hilda giggled. “C’mon, he’s a big boy! It’ll take all three of us if we want to be done by dinner.”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, dropping the sponge in a bucket. “I do hope to see you at dinner.”

He stalked up the steep hill behind him. Hilda made a noise of disappointment before turning to Zeiss and Varun. “Oh well…”

“It was a longer shot than even Bernadetta could make,” Varun said.

Hilda laughed.


	3. Burning Night

Dorothea looked out over the unusually quiet buildings of Enbarr. She stood on an opera house balcony. All of her friends from the opera house had long been dispersed, but she felt she had to stay here, at least for now. She still debated about telling Edelgard what she’d overheard five years ago on the night of the ball when passing by the Golden Deer classroom. Though, she reasoned, Edelgard likely already knew. Dorothea sighed, her breath rising in a white cloud from her painted lips. She wondered if Edelgard’s way was right. She shed so much blood over the past five years. She killed Dimitri. She was intent on killing their former classmates. On killing their friends. Ferdinand and Bernadetta had left their class to join the Golden Deer all those years ago. She would not hesitate to kill Manuela, and if Dorothea joined Edelgard, Dorothea herself would be forced to fight Manuela. Dorothea didn’t think she could do such a thing. Many of Dorothea’s former opera company members would not side with Edelgard, and made their way over to the Alliance territory to hide from Edelgard. The ones that had stayed, who stood by Edelgard or who simply feared her too much to flee, had all gone home. Now, Dorothea was alone, tending to the opera house herself. She had nowhere else to go, really. Not in Enbarr, at any rate.

Garreg Mach was a different story. She’d heard Imperial soldiers discussing that it was the site of the resistant army, an army led by Claude and her former professor. There, Dorothea had a home. A room. Friends. She wouldn’t say she had a family per se. The opera company was her family, and they were gone now. The Black Eagles had been like family. Even Ferdinand, much as she detested him. Caspar in particular had been like her family and it hadn’t come with betrayal like Edelgard had. Caspar was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions on his face. Dorothea hadn’t written him simply because Caspar had joined Edelgard, and Dorothea didn’t know what to make of that. Dorothea sighed again, looking straight down to the street below. At Garreg Mach, she could see Bernadetta again. The professor. Seteth. Flayn. There would be so many friends of hers to see, but Dorothea just couldn’t imagine they’d want to see her, as she hadn’t joined them when she had the chance before. What would make them recruit her to their ranks? And did she even want to?

Dorothea brushed snow off the balcony and rested her head in her hand. She couldn’t stand the idea of killing her friends. She’d not chosen to join her class, but now she wished she had joined Byleth’s class. She would feel safer about returning to them if she had that rapport. Her eyes followed a pair of figures as they approached the opera house. One of them looked up at her. Dorothea didn’t recognise him, but she did recognise his companion- that cyan hair was unmistakable. She narrowed her eyes, backing away from the balcony and stepping into the opera house again. She left the doors open, walking downstairs. Whether friend or foe, she didn’t know, but she was currently alone. She picked up a tome from a dressing table.

“Dorothea?” the familiar voice echoed around the theatre, loud as ever. It was just as warm and friendly as she recalled, too. “Hey! Dorothea!”

Dorothea stepped silently backstage, making her way to the curtains just in time to see Caspar hop up onto the stage. He almost lost his balance, waving his arms around, before catching himself and straightening up, walking forward. His footsteps were deafening in the still silence of the auditorium.

“Dorothea?” he called out again.

“What do you want, Caspar?” Dorothea demanded. She stepped out, poised to cast a spell.

“Whoa whoa, hang on!” Caspar held up his hands to show he wasn’t holding his axe and taking a few steps back. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to ask what you’re going to do.”

“What do you mean?” Dorothea asked. “And who’s that?”

“Who? Oh. This is Prescott. He’s my subordinate,” Caspar jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Prescott, characteristically off-hand despite his earlier tone. “Well, was. We kinda ran away from Edelgard’s army…”

“You ran away? That’s not like you at all,” her eyes narrowed into slits. “I swear to you, if you’re one of them, you will regret coming here.”

“One of… what do you mean?” Caspar looked apprehensively at Dorothea’s hand, taking another step back from her and almost stepping off the stage. “What are you talking about, Dorothea?”

“A shape-shifter. Like Monica, like Tomas,” Dorothea advanced on Caspar, her hand glowing. “How do I know you’re the Caspar I know? That this isn’t some trick?”

“Er, is there really a need for those? Edelgard hasn’t really been subtle lately,” said Caspar. “Listen, Dorothea, can you please put the tome down? Or at least your hand? Do you want me to prove who I am? Uh… Damn, I don’t think we hung out in the Academy enough to have a secret between us.”

Dorothea tilted her head to the side, thinking. “That’s true… Why did you leave Edelgard’s army, then? How did you know I was here?”

Caspar rubbed the back of his neck, then ruffled the back of his hair, looking for the right words. “I can’t do what Edelgard wants me to. I can’t kill my friends. She ordered me to find you and kill you if you wouldn’t join her. I can’t do that. I figured you’d be here- this is the only home you have in Enbarr, right? Still, I’m kind of surprised to see you…”

“What do you plan to do with me, then?” Dorothea still hadn’t lowered her tome or her hand.

“I was hoping you’d come with me to join Claude’s army.”

Dorothea raised her eyebrows. “You’re switching sides?”

“Well yeah,” Caspar said. “I think Edelgard needs to be stopped. You haven’t seen her lately. She’s really lost it. If anyone can stop her, maybe even save her, it’s Claude.”

“I’m worried about her,” Dorothea said. “I don’t want her to be killed, but she isn’t the Edie we knew. Do you think the Edie we knew is still in there?”

“I don’t know,” Caspar said. “With how she’s acting, I wonder if this was how she always was, and the Edelgard we knew wasn’t the real Edelgard.”

“I don’t think so,” said a small voice from behind Caspar.

Dorothea and Caspar looked at Prescott. Prescott turned bright red, fiddling with his cape, mumbling an apology.

“What makes you say that?” asked Dorothea.

“Um, well…” Prescott looked furtively around the room. “I’ve met Emperor Edelgard on several occasions. I, uh, had the impression maybe… she isn’t wholly acting on her own? Oh, it’s a stupid idea. Forget it! I obviously have no idea what I’m talking about! I am so sorry, Lady Dorothea! Commander, please accept my humblest apologies!”

Prescott tugged the hood of his cape up over his head and over his eyes.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not a stupid idea, Prescott!” Caspar said. “I’m not sure how right you are, but it’s not stupid. Right, Dorothea?”

Dorothea shook her head slowly. “Not at all. But who would be manipulating her?”

Prescott fiddled with his hood and didn’t answer beyond a shrug. His face was visibly red.

“Maybe those creepy shapeshifters got to Edelgard, too,” Caspar suggested. “We know Monica hung out with her a lot. Maybe whoever was controlling Monica is controlling Edelgard?”

“Maybe...”

“Uh, Dorothea? Are you going to keep threatening me?” Caspar asked nervously. “I swear I’m not here to hurt you. Oh!”

“What?” she asked sharply.

“I think I thought of something,” he’d gone red in the face. “Back when we were in the Academy… I used to help you with your chores. You offered to stop having me do stuff for you if… if I…”

He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, visibly uncomfortable. “If I called you my big sister. If I called you ‘big sis’, actually. That’s something only you and I know, I think. I’d never tell anyone.”

Dorothea looked at him for a moment. It was true she’d never thought to tell the story to anyone either, so it was something only the two of them would know. She sighed, then lowered her hand, setting the book down. Caspar relaxed. “It’s been a long time, Caspar. But I’m surprised. I would have thought you would have brought Lin with you.”

“He didn’t want to come,” Caspar said gloomily. “He doesn’t want to fight, and Edelgard hasn’t been making him fight. I don’t blame him, but Edelgard is going to force him to fight eventually. I mean, that’s why she sent me to come and get you. Linhardt doesn’t seem too worried.”

“I’ll send someone to get him,” Dorothea said. “Let me send a letter to my friend. She’s escorting some of my troupe members to the border, but I’ll ask her to go and retrieve Lin.”

“Do you think he’ll go with her?”

“Yes,” she said. “She rides a falicorn, so he doesn’t have to walk. As soon as I send a letter to her and gather my things, we can leave. The sooner we set out, the better. I’m glad you came. I was honestly thinking of leaving when you came here.”

“You were going to go alone?” Prescott asked. “That’s very dangerous, Lady Dorothea.”

“Yes, though I admit I was not enthusiastic about the idea,” Dorothea said, sighing. “So as I said, I am glad you’re here. I’ll be right back.”

She went back upstairs and closed the doors to the now freezing suite she’d been in earlier. Her things were already almost completely packed, aside from her nightclothes and her toiletries. She put them away in a satchel and sat down to pen a letter, coding it in case it was read by an Imperial loyalist. Dorothea read the completed letter through twice, trying to see it from the point of view of an Imperial knight. In the end, she took it down to Prescott and Caspar.

“What do you think?”

Caspar took it, his brow furrowed. “I thought you were going to tell this Azriel to go get Linhardt, and that you’re going to Garreg Mach, not invite him to the opera. Is this the right letter?”

Prescott read it through over his former commander’s shoulder. His brows knit for a moment before comprehension dawned on his face. “Is it in code, Lady Dorothea?”

“You can tell?”

“No, no,” Prescott said quickly. “Not from the writing, no. You said you were going to write to Azriel about what we’re doing, but the letter doesn’t say any of that. So it has to be in code. If I’m wrong, I’m very sorry!”

“Oh, I get it,” Caspar said, rereading the letter. “If I know it’s code, then yeah, I totally get what you mean. But I don’t think even Hubert would know what this actually means.”

“You’re exaggerating, but nevertheless, I will take the compliment.”

“I’m not really exaggerating,” Caspar said, handing the letter back. “You’re really something, Dorothea.”

“Neither of you could tell what it really meant?”

“Nope.”

“No, my lady.”

Dorothea rolled up the letter and tied it closed with a burgundy ribbon. She tied it to the leg of a white owl, took the owl to the door, and sent it off into the snowy night. As she did this, Prescott and Caspar began putting out the lanterns.

“Wait,” Dorothea grabbed Caspar’s arm. Her expression was anxious. “If you’re supposed to kill me… we don’t want Edelgard coming after us.”

“No, which is why we should leave as soon as possible,” Caspar said. “Like you said.”

“I know,” Dorothea said. “Listen, Caspar… I… I have an idea. I don’t like it, but it may give us time.”

“Time?”

“Set the opera house on fire,” Dorothea said, gripping his arm a little tighter as she forced the words out.

Caspar stared at her. “Are you sure? This place means a lot to you.”

“It does,” Dorothea said. “Which is why Prescott is going to go get help, once… it’s burnt for a while. But not enough it can’t be restored.”

“Dorothea-“

“It’ll make for a distraction,” she said. “And it will look like I fought you. Like we both died. Prescott can go back to Edie and tell her what happened. He can spy for us.”

“A-are you sure about that?” Prescott stammered. “I don’t think I’d make for a good spy, Lady Dorothea…”

“It’s not a bad plan,” Caspar said, frowning in thought. “But won’t they get suspicious when they don’t find our bodies? That’s the first thing I’d go looking for.”

Dorothea suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “About that…”

“What?”

She rubbed her arm, not looking at Caspar or Prescott. “I believe we can fake that. Our deaths, that is.”

“How?”

Dorothea chewed on her lip. “Two resistance spies came into the opera house a few days ago, trying to hide from Imperial soldiers. They were badly wounded, but I took them in. They needed help, and I know a little healing magic. So, I… tried. I tried to save them, but I’m not Manuela. I’m not cut out for healing, with magic or medicine. Their wounds were infected and they were feverish. The soldiers who accosted them used dark magic and poison, then left them for dead. There was nothing I could do. Even though I tried, there was nothing I could do.”

Caspar put his hand awkwardly on her shoulder. Dorothea grasped his wrist, but made no effort to remove his hand from her shoulder.

“I hate this idea. But… we can use their bodies to fake our deaths. There is a woman and a man.”

“Dorothea?”

“I’m not okay with it,” she said.

“So let’s not do it,” Caspar said. “We’ll bury them. We don’t need to fake our deaths.”

“But we do,” she said. “We need as much time as we can to get away. Edie isn’t stupid. She likely knows you’re going to betray her.”

Caspar frowned. “Dorothea…”

“I want to be sure we have enough time to flee,” she said. “I’d hate to be killed before we get to the border, and Enbarr is crawling with knights, as is the border.”

“What about Prescott?” the two of them looked over at Prescott, who was relighting the lamps. Caspar ran his tongue over his teeth, clicked his tongue, and then proposed an answer to his own question.

“Well, he could be knocked out,” Caspar said thoughtfully. “He’s a stranger and an Imperial soldier, so you could have attacked him on sight. Then he doesn’t know I betrayed Edelgard when she inevitably finds out.”

Dorothea nodded. “Yes. That’s a good plan.”

They relayed the plan to a disquieted Prescott, who nonetheless agreed. The two men stood behind Dorothea as she raised a tome and her hand again. The Thoron tome felt heavy. She took a deep breath, then cast the spell. The bolt of lightning struck a chair, which ignited. She cast it again, hitting the wall, which charred but didn’t burn. Caspar stepped around her, raising his axe and striking the floor.

“Caspar! What are you-?”

“You’re making it look like you missed,” he said. “I should do the same thing.”

When the flames caused by Dorothea’s spells began to spread through the room, the men followed Dorothea around back. They would be able to escape from there unnoticed. Dorothea embraced Prescott.

“I wish you luck,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Prescott.”

“I haven’t done anything yet,” he mumbled, very embarrassed. “But thank you, Lady Dorothea.”

“I am no lady,” she said, but she smiled for the first time in weeks. “Stay safe, Prescott. Be careful.”

“Yeah,” Caspar stretched. “Don’t get killed before I see you again.”

“Is that an order, Commander?”

Caspar thought for a moment. “Yeah, it is. Don’t die.”  
  
“Yes, sir. Take care of Lady Dorothea.”

“I will,” Caspar pulled Dorothea out of the back exit, and the two made their way through the winding back alleys. Dorothea pulled her cloak more secure around her shoulders. They slowed down when they heard the clanking of armour and the beat of hooves, stopping to watch a small group of knights run by in the direction of the opera house. Dorothea refused to look back at it, but Caspar could see, in the distance, orange light flickering, marking where the opera house was. Just as Dorothea had predicted, the knights were thoroughly distracted by the fire. On the outskirts of Enbarr, though, they encountered a lone knight at the entrance to the city, blocking the road out.

“Predictable,” Dorothea said under her breath, cross. “Come, we can go through the trees.”

“Just knock him out,” Caspar whispered. “With one of your arrow spells.”

“Caspar, that would defeat the purpose of setting the opera house on fire.”

“We’ll rob him then,” Caspar said. “Make it look like a thief took him out.”

Dorothea sighed, then did as Caspar suggested. Her spell struck him on his neck, and he slid sideways off his mount, unconscious. Caspar and Dorothea ran forward, turning him over. Caspar looked around for something to steal, while Dorothea approached the horse. It didn’t look remotely concerned that its rider had fallen off. Dorothea stroked the horse’s neck, reading the nameplate on its bridle.

“Okay, Dorothea. Let’s go,” Caspar said, offering her his hand. “Are you going to be able to ride?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “I don’t have time to change into trousers.”

Caspar got onto the back of the horse, then offered his hand to Dorothea. He pulled her up behind him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“There. Is that alright?”

“It could be more comfortable, but yes,” she said. “Let’s go, Caspar!”

Caspar gently egged the horse into a canter, plunging the two of them into the dense trees outside Enbarr.  
  


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Ingrid dropped down into a chair outside a small shop in the marketplace, setting down the shopping from that day. She stretched, groaning as she felt her muscles pull. As she did so, her hair caught on a metal cart behind her. Ingrid winced, reaching behind her to untangle her hair, but unable to see it, she could tell she only made things worse.

“Damn it,” Ingrid groaned, dropping her arms to her lap. “Okay.”

She reached back, but found another pair of hands at her hair. She turned her head up to see who it was, catching sight of vibrant red hair. At first, she thought it was Sylvain, but then she noticed the hair was much longer than Sylvain’s, and that the person fiddling with her hair was female and dressed in indigo, rather than black and burgundy.

“Oh! Hello, Farrah. Thank you for your help.”

“It’s no trouble,” Farrah said. “I almost cut my hair because I keep catching it on things. So I just keep it brushed and loose.”

Farrah set Ingrid’s ribbon across Ingrid’s chest, followed by the two pins and the two bands Ingrid used to secure her braids. Once unplaited, Ingrid’s hair easily came off the cart. Ingrid sat up, rubbing her head. “Ouch… thanks a lot, Farrah.”

“No problem,” Farrah sat down next to Ingrid. “You’re on shopping duty today?”

“Yeah,” Ingrid said, setting her hair decorations on the table and running her fingers through her hair. “Why are you here? I mean, in the market.”

“I’m still looking for a birthday present for my mom,” Farrah said.

“Still? You’ve been looking for a month. Didn’t her birthday already go by?”

“Yep,” Farrah said. “But my mom knows my gifts can be late if I haven’t found the perfect gift. Once I gave her a present six months late, it was actually my dad’s birthday, but I couldn’t find the perfect present for her.”

“What kind of things does she like?” Ingrid asked. “Maybe I could-“

She broke off, watching Sylvain stride by and narrowing her green eyes. Farrah watched him go by as well with interest. Ingrid stood up. “I need to go. Can you take the supplies to the Knight’s Hall, please, Farrah?”

“Are you following Sylvain?”

“Someone has to keep him out of trouble,” Ingrid said, moving around the table. “I’m sorry for dumping my chores on you. You’re supposed to garden tomorrow, right? I’ll do it.”

Ingrid left. Farrah carried the supplies in as directed. Alois glanced around as she walked in.

“Ah, Farrah! What have you got there?”

“The supplies Ingrid was supposed to get. I told her I’d bring them,” Farrah said. “Where do you want them, Alois?”

“In the corner there will do!”

“Thank you,” Farrah set the crates down as indicated. “Here you are.”

She popped the top off the top crate with a spearhead and sheer brute force. Two dozen vulnerary caps glittered in the torchlight around her. She set the top of the crate again. “It’s full of vulneraries.”

“Ah-ha! I was wondering what it was! The other must be full of arrows! Leave it to me, Lady Farrah! I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Alois,” Farrah smiled. “Alright. Bye!”

“Farewell, Lady Farrah!”

Farrah took off into town to find Ingrid and Sylvain. She found Ingrid first, sitting at a fountain and watching Sylvain talking to a girl.

“Hi, Ingrid.”

“Hello, Farrah,” Ingrid said tersely.

“Is he flirting with that girl?”

“Yes,” Ingrid sighed. “I may have to step in.”

“Do you ever think he does it to make you jealous?”

Ingrid looked so appalled she couldn’t speak for a moment. Her mouth hung open slightly, a hand on her chest. She blinked. Farrah arched one crimson eyebrow. “Ingrid?”

“I-I’m sorry, you think Sylvain is trying to make me jealous?” Ingrid said finally, still stunned. “Are you crazy?”

“Are you saying you aren’t jealous?”

“I have never been jealous of the girls he flirts with,” Ingrid said flatly. “I cannot even understand why you would think that.”

“You’re following him into town and are in a very bad mood about him flirting,” Farrah pointed out. “You look jealous.”

“I follow him to keep him out of trouble,” Ingrid said. “And to clean up after him. That’s why I’m in a foul mood over this.”

She uncrossed her legs, stamping her foot on the ground and standing up. “Speaking of, I need to clean up a mess Sylvain made.”

Ingrid went up to Sylvain. She was visibly irate as she spoke with him, and Sylvain eventually got flustered. Ingrid jabbed him in the chest a few times while clearly talking louder than before, as people turned to look at her. Even Farrah could hear her across the Pavilion, reminding Sylvain of the time he’d hit on her granny when he was eight, the time he made eyes at a scarecrow, and the time he’d relentlessly pursued an esteemed daughter of a lord.

“Who do you suppose made peace with the furious lord, despite having nothing to do with it? Hm?” Ingrid jabbed him in the chest again and Sylvain stepped back, visibly embarrassed. “Me. Always me, always for you. Every time.”

Farrah watches with interest as Sylvain tried to end the conversation, promising to change. Ingrid turned and walked off after the girl Sylvain had offended earlier. Sylvain rumpled his red hair, his face pink. Farrah approached.

“Hey, Sylvain.”

“Oh, Farrah. Looking radiant today.”

“Having a rough time with girls?”

“Just Ingrid,” he said. “She always gets so mad at me for flirting.”

“Well, you don’t really like these women, do you?” Farrah said. “I’ve heard how much scorn you have for women. You think they all want you for your Crest. It’s not exactly a secret.”

Sylvain appraised her, frowning slightly. The look made Farrah uneasy. It was the look of anger, distrust, and disgust Sylvain automatically and yet barely held back when he interacted with women. Sylvain dropped all pleasant pretences with her, something Farrah wasn’t used to in the slightest, and she found herself looking away.

“Well, it’s true,” he said, his tone cool. “That’s all women see. A Crest. A chance to give birth to the next heir to House Gautier. Why should you or anyone else be any different?”

Farrah made a face of disgust. “Because I have absolutely no interest in procreating with you, Sylvain.”

“Oh,” he leaned against a wall. He looked unsure if he should be offended or not. “But I have a Crest. Doesn’t that make me valuable to you?”

“Not really,” she said. “I don’t care about Crests. My parents both hate them, so why would I care?”

Sylvain looked at her appraisingly now. He unfolded his arms, instead sticking his hands in his pockets. “Your parents hate Crests? Why?”

“Crests nearly ruined everything for my parents,” Farrah said. “They both have one. My father was a prize to be won, and my mother was a prize to be given away to the highest bidder. They both hate their Crests, and are glad I was born without one. I don’t even know what their Crests are.”

“Prize to be won,” Sylvain repeated. “That’s a feeling I know well.”

He pushed off the wall with his shoulders and began walking around her. “I’m going back to the monastery.”

Farrah watched him go, a hand on her hip. From inside a vendor’s stall selling trinkets, Vance approached Farrah. He was one of their youngest teammates, only fifteen, with long, sleek black hair he kept back in a ponytail. Farrah didn’t even look at him, even when Vance slipped his hand into hers.

“You really shouldn’t be talking to them, Fair.”

“I can’t help it,” she said. “Your parents aren’t here, Van. Lord Hubert and Lady Audhild are in Enbarr. You don’t have to avoid them.”

“I know,” Vance said. “But you know what Iseult told us. We cannot let them know. We just can not.”

“I still don’t see why not,” Farrah said, disgruntled. “Half of us haven’t seen one or both of our parents in years. My mom died two years ago, but I can talk to her now. I get to see the stories her and my dad told me. Like that argument they just had! I’d heard about that argument from Mom once.”

Vance let go of her hand, stepping in front of her. “I understand, Fair. But we have to be careful.”

Farrah blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Okay, okay. Let’s just go get some food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little while, I hope Chapter 4 won't take as long to get out. I hope to try and post twice a week if possible. I might start using these Chapter Notes to write short descriptions of the OCs, since I'm not really trying to hide a lot of details about them. That's not really the point to me, plus I think, realistically, kids would struggle to keep such a secret.
> 
> If it's possible, please leave a review letting me know if that's something you'd be interested in! If I did start doing it, I'd start with Chapter 4 or 5. But I'd like some feedback.


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